


One Year of Love

by cymbaline



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: AU, Birthday, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Reminiscing, affair, dealor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 05:54:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20371777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cymbaline/pseuds/cymbaline
Summary: It's the day of John's birthday party and Roger isn't so sure he should attend.





	One Year of Love

**Author's Note:**

> A late-night idea I had while writing my other fic. Hope you enjoy!

**23 August, 1985. **

"Freddie, I don't really see the point in me going." Roger crossed his arms and twirled the phone cord around his finger. "His birthday was days ago." 

"Don't be a twat, Roger. It would mean a lot to Deaky that we're all there." Freddie smirked from the other end.

"Dom and Felix are out of town. Everyone else will be there with someone except me." Roger whined.

"Is this about Veronica?" Freddie laughed. 

"God no, why would it be about HER?" Roger tried to feign confidence in his voice, but his friend saw right through his words.

"I thought you said that what happened on the tour was nothing." Freddie's smile was audible through the phone.

"It was nothing.." Roger retorted.

"It doesn't sound like nothing." Freddie mocked back. "If it was nothing, I wouldn't have to beg you to go to the party."

"Fine! I'll go!" Roger yelled through the phone, clearly at odds with himself.

"Okay dear, pick me up in two hours." Freddie chuckled and set his phone down on the receiver.

"Prick!" Roger slammed his phone. 

The blonde stormed down the hallway to his wardrobe. If he was going, he had to find something to wear, dammit. 

After changing about 20 times, he was torn between a gray suit with a purple tie or a white button-down with black slacks. He couldn't decide, but he didn't want to call Freddie. He definitely couldn't call Brian, either. Chrissie would have a field day if Roger made them late. 

Finally, he decided on a black button-down, buttoned-down, of course, and gray slacks. He messed his hair up just enough and donned his sunglasses. He had to see to drive, after all. 

* * *

When he arrived at Freddie's house, the man was smiling. "That's what you're wearing?" Freddie laughed as he entered the car.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Roger looked at his shirt defensively. "Should I change?" 

Freddie busted out in a fit of giggles, slapping his knee. "I'm only joking, Roger. Relax, will you?" 

"I'm glad you find this whole thing so funny, Fred." Roger rolled his eyes and zoomed down the street. 

After minutes of driving in silence, the singer cleared his throat. "Have you talked to him?" Freddie looked to his friend seriously. 

"Who? Deaky?" Roger scoffed. "Why bother? Haven’t seen him since Live Aid." 

"You know that they're planning divorce, right?" Freddie rested his hand on his friend's knee. "He told me."

“But, it doesn't seem that way now does it? She planned this shindig, after all." Roger sighed. He was battling with himself and he knew it. 

* * *

**It began during the second month of The Works tour. **

Roger didn’t remember why, but he remembered being at an after-party in Munich. They could afford to get drunk, as they had two days until they had to be in Paris. Friends of Freddie’s offered their house, and the band obliged. God only knew that there would be thousands of people there. 

Still, Roger remembered standing in a corner at the edge of the dance floor, a woman draped on his arm. She was trying to get lucky, but he wasn’t feeling it that night. Instead, his eyes were glued onto his bandmate moving on the dance floor. His permed hair was bouncing, and his hips were moving to the beat. Roger was just drunk enough to let go of his reservations. 

“Roger?” He heard the girl next to him say, distantly. “Want to get out of here?” 

His head was swimming as he continued to watch John, in his own world, moving to the music. 

“Not tonight.” He pushed the pouting girl away and made his way to the dance floor. 

The dancing man looked up and smiled at him, face flushed from alcohol and exercise. Roger reached his hands out and grabbed ahold of John’s waist, pulling him closer. John accepted the touch and continued to move to the beat, their bodies flush against each other. 

A slow song started, for whatever reason, and Roger found himself lost in John’s eyes. Before he could think twice, his lips were on John’s. Roger remembers them being as delicately soft as he imagined. They stayed like that for the entirety of the song; lips colliding, tongues twisting, and bodies moving in sync. 

“We should go,” John said as the song ended. Roger nodded in agreement, and took John’s wrist, leading him down the street. 

Luckily, their hotel was only three blocks away. They were at the point in their careers where they each had their own room, though Roger wasn’t thinking of any implications at the moment. 

As soon as the door closed behind them, his lips were back on John’s. They spent the night basking in each other, tangled in the other’s limbs and driving each other to the brink of ecstasy. 

For the rest of the tour, Roger couldn’t keep his eyes off of John. In private, they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other.

Freddie noticed it after Roger stopped chatting up birds the first few nights. Brian took a little longer, but they both caught on when John didn’t answer his door in the morning. 

In Osaka, the last night of the tour, they watched the sunrise while wrapped in each other’s arms. Both knew that nothing could stay the same as it had been, but they didn’t talk about it. Instead, they enjoyed the company of each other one more time. 

They still hadn’t talked about it. After the tour, the band took a two-month break.

Then, Live Aid happened. It was the day that they were to go on stage, and John had a breakdown. Since they had returned, things had been murky for the bassist. His marriage was in shambles and the man was struggling. The pressure of performing in front of such a large audience left the man shaking at his core.

While the others were busy getting ready, Roger took it upon himself to console the brunette. He found John, laying on the floor of his dressing room. His hands were in his hair and tears were streaming down his face. 

Without a word, Roger laid himself on the floor next to John. John turned on his side and allowed Roger to hold him. As John let out sobs, Roger placed soft kisses along his neck and whispered affirmations into his hair. 

Live Aid had gone on without a hitch, their greatest show of all time. 

It had been a month since that day, and the two men hadn’t exchanged a word. 

When asked, Roger told the other two that it was a fling. “It was just fun.” He had said. Was he trying to convince his bandmates or himself?

* * *

Either way, Roger found himself at the entrance of the restaurant. Veronica had rented the whole place to celebrate John’s 34th. He drew a deep shuddering breath, and felt Freddie’s reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

Veronica was chain-smoking at the door, and her eyes met Roger’s immediately. _ Did she know? _

“Come in, boys.” She smiled and moved to the side, allowing them to enter. 

When he arrived in the hall, John immediately caught his eye. His hair was cut short, and his face cleanly shaven. He looked thinner, a baggy white dress shirt and tie hanging from his body and loosely tucked into his slacks. 

Their eyes met and Roger felt his breath hitch. John smiled and made his way over to his friends. 

"Glad you both could make it." He was speaking to both of them, but his eyes were on Roger. 

"Happy birthday, Deaky dear." Freddie embraced John in a hug. 

Roger reached out to do the same, embracing the small man and breathing in his scent. "Happy birthday, John." He pulled back and looked into the bassist's eyes. There were so many things that he wanted to say but knew this wasn't the time or place. 

A look crossed John's eyes that Roger couldn't read. He nodded to both of them and motioned towards the door. "I'd better go greet my other guests. I'll catch you later?" He smirked and left without another word.

"Let's go get some drinks, Roger." Freddie pulled his friend in the direction of the bar. 

Three mixed vodkas later, and Roger was starting to feel it. He watched as some photographers came around and took pictures of the guests. Brian and Chrissie were chatting with Veronica, and John snuck in to wrap his arm around the woman.

Roger grew sick to his stomach and ordered another drink before making his way out to the patio. It was a chilly night, so he found himself watching the stars alone. Halfway through his drink, he heard footsteps and a door behind him. Figuring it to be someone from the wait staff, he didn't pay much notice. It wasn’t until the footsteps stopped behind him that he turned around. 

When he did, he laid eyes on John’s moonlit face, eyes boring into his like beacons in the darkness.

“Penny for your thoughts?” John muttered as he flashed a pack of cigarettes in Roger’s direction offering him one. Roger nodded and took one from the pack, laughing facetiously. 

“Did you make a wish, birthday boy?” Roger joked as he gave it a light. 

John nodded, smiling. “Walk with me?” He motioned down the street, lit cigarette in his hand. 

“Isn’t it a little rude for you to leave your party?” Roger raised a testing eyebrow in John’s direction.

“It’s my birthday after all, and we both know I’m not much for parties as it is.” John smiled, as Roger joined him to walk at a slow pace down the street. “I’d much rather be right here.” 

John reached out to take Roger’s hand and led him into an alleyway. 

"John.." Roger questioned as they disappeared into the darkness. He was cut off, however, when John's lips met his. 

"I've missed you." John pulled away and wrapped his arms around the man.

"I've missed you too, Deaks. So much.." Roger trailed off, kissing John's lips again. 

"I didn't think you'd come tonight," John said solemnly as he looked into Roger's eyes. 

"I didn't think so either," Roger admitted softly.

They kissed again, harder and more passionately, allowing the moonlight to glaze them in a world of darkness.

After a long time, Roger spoke again. "John, is it true?"

John moved the pair to catch Roger's face in the moonlight. "Is _what_ true?"

"Are you leaving Veronica?" Roger knew it was blunt, but he needed to know.

"I don't know.." John tilted his head down. Roger could see tears forming in his eyes.

"John, you have four babies together. You have a beautiful life. Don't give that up for…" 

"Roger, I love you." John sniffled. "God, I love you." He turned away, wiping at his face.

"You.. What?" Roger was dumbfounded at the revelation. "Deaky?" He grabbed John's shoulder and turned him around.

Tears were streaming down John's face as he looked up at the blonde. “I love you.”

Roger suddenly felt frozen in place, wanting to take in the moment and make it last forever. He reached a shaky hand out to caress John's cheek. "I love you too, Dea.. John."

With that, John pressed his lips to Roger's. 

"Your house is empty, right?" John said hastily between breaths. 

"Yes." Roger smiled and led his love toward the road to hail a cab.

It turns out that John's birthday wish was to spend the night making love to Roger. Roger made sure it was thoroughly fulfilled.

After a blissful night, the sun began to rise. Roger stretched his arms above his head and breathed in the scent that was simply John. Instead of his lover, however, he rolled over to find an empty bed and a note. 

* * *

Thirty-four years later, it's the last night of Queen's tour with Adam Lambert. As he does every year, Roger pulls the yellowed letter out of an envelope. With a shaky hand, he reads once more.

_Rog,_

_We both know that we can't go on like this._

_ I meant what I said last night. I love you now, and I always will. _

_Just one year of love is better than a lifetime alone._

_John_


End file.
